


A World Away, Home is Where Your Head Lays

by Viraz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Crossover, Fantasy Medicine, Fluff, Happy Wolf Family... Eventually, Harry/Geralt Endgame, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:48:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24874126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viraz/pseuds/Viraz
Summary: As his world crumbs around him he's ready to end it all, or be whisked away to lands unknown. Either is fine by him. So he steps through the veil. What he never expected was a land rich with magic the likes of which he's couldn't have imagined. What he expected less was a family and love that time can't take away from him. It won't be easy, what is in his life has ever been easy. Wolves are stubborn creatures, but Harry has eons of weathering storms under his belt. He's determined to get the happy ending he's owed. Sorry I suck at summaries! It's the Harry Potter/ Witcher story I wanted but couldn't find so I wrote it myself.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Harry Potter, Lambert (The Witcher)/Harry Potter
Comments: 27
Kudos: 216





	A World Away, Home is Where Your Head Lays

**Author's Note:**

> So I haven't written fanfiction in probably around a decade now. But when you're writing a novel and get a block for it what's a girl to do to keep her writing mojo going but write some saucy crossover fiction. This will probably not be updated on a regular schedule but I'll try to have something up every couple weeks at a minimum. Editing was done by myself so please let me know if there's anything I missed. Comments and suggestions appreciated, thanks for reading!

Harry sighed as he contemplated the flapping curtains of the veil. A strange cold wind blew from inside the archway. He took a breath, then another. The last breath he took was ragged before running the couple steps to it and flinging himself in. This had to be it. It was a gateway to somewhere else or it was death. Either option would suit at this point.

Everyone he’d known and loved was gone, crumbled to age, lines died out. Watching magic die out, generation after generation, while the muggles slowly choked off the life of the planet. He couldn’t take it anymore. He would be dead or he wouldn’t have to keep going mad watching it happen. Hitting the surface of the veil was like breaking through a mirror. It felt as if he broke through and thousands of shards pierced his skin. He screamed but no sound could be heard. He was able to catch a glimpse of nothingness before he blacks out.

Dusk is falling in Lod, the townsfolk mostly tucked away in their homes or in the tavern. The portal makes no sound as it opens in a darkening side street. Harry’s body is unceremoniously dropped into the mud. He groans as he lands but remains unconscious. Any of the townsfolk that pass by give the boy a wide berth. With his strange clothes, sudden appearance, and unconscious state no one wants to trifle with a presumed magic user that got into a fight. That was just asking for trouble. One kind soul props him against the nearest building so he’s at least out of the way.

Harry jolted awake when the sun began to rise. His body ached. Which was his first clue that he wasn’t dead. Opening his eyes felt like he was having to split the skin to do so. Once his eyes were open and focused all he could do was rub them and blink. Did he go back in time? It looked like he’s landed himself in the middle of a medieval town. The people that passed him were giving him wary glances while trying to seem as if they were ignoring him entirely. 

Every joint cracked as Harry attempted to stand. He’s quite thankful that it doesn’t seem like he was actually shredded by going through the veil. That would have been a bitch to recover from. Or maybe he had been and been out long enough to regenerate. It was hard to say with his healing. He didn’t wake up in a pool of blood, that was something at least. He quickly comes to the conclusion that he sorrily sticks out in jumper and robes. He surmises this is likely the reason for so much staring. He takes stock of himself once he’s standing and steady. No large wounds, wand still in place, mokeskin pouch still tied around his neck. Small mercies and all that.

Harry’s stomach complains loudly once he’s gotten his bearings. Ok so first order of business is food… and more appropriate clothing. Sticking out as he was was likely not good for his continued undisturbed existence. After that he’d figure out where and when he was, after that he’d take things as they come.

His nose led him quickly to a shop selling fresh bread and small pastries. He started to question his time travel theory when it came time to pay the shop owner, The local currency was nothing he’s ever seen or read about before. He was relieved when the shopkeep accepted a galleon for his purchases. He couldn’t tell if it was accepted because it was gold or because it looked close enough to some form of their currency. The woman had said he was lucky she was willing to accept ducats, whatever those were.

Walking as he ate, Harry listened to the chatter around him. He grew concerned. He recognized none of the locations that were mentioned and kept hearing words and phrases he had no clue how to interpret. After finishing his meal he ducked into a deserted alley. He transfigured his shirt and pants into something more akin to the style of the locals. His robes became a cloak and his shirt and pants altered more to the styles he’d seen. He got less stares after his emergence but he felt his styling was still a bit off, nothing to help it for now unfortunately. At least the stares now felt more curious and less wary.

After some time wandering Harry found the town’s tavern, The Honking Goose. He procured himself a mug of what he came to realize was some form of ale and found an out of the way corner. As he continued to listen and after brief conversations with the barkeep and a bored barmaid he began to confirm that his initial assessment was likely way off the mark. He was starting to think that he hadn’t been transported through time as much as to a different realm of existence entirely.

For one thing a seeming muggle told him he should see the library at Ban Ard, the neighboring magic academy, if he was interested in learning about the history of the area. But he was cautioned to be careful. There was talk of an endrega nest in the woods along the way. The barmaid chattered that the town had put up a notice for a witcher but one hadn’t passed through yet. Giant insect monsters and mutant monster hunters was what she was talking about. As if of course these things existed and it was common knowledge. Oh and a band of Scoia’tael were making a stink along the road going south. This was unfortunate because the townsfolk were having trouble getting to other villages with both ways out of town slightly impassable. Scoia’tael, real, tall, pointy eared elven renegades. Where had he landed and how hard had he hit his head?

Speaking of, Harry’s head was spinning. He knows he hadn’t paid much attention in history of magic but he’s pretty sure he’d remember something like this. Endrega were definitely not covered in care of magical creatures, Hagrid would have cooed at something so venomous and brought it in to class for sure. The barmaid laughed at his cluelessness and flabbergasted expression. The girl assumed some poor rural noble’s son had gotten loose and had no real clue how the world around him worked. Didn’t explain his frankly indecent clothing but who was she to complain about a good eyeful. She titters a goodbye as another patron motions for a drink. Harry realized he’s going to have a lot to learn about where the veil decided to drop him, and he should figure it out sooner rather than later.

~~~

A couple months pass as Harry starts to adapt to his new world. He finds he’s landed in a town called Lod, in a territory called Kaedwen. In that time he’s narrowly escaped being enrolled at Ban Ard. Having to hide most of his power and play ignorant. He had no desire for a second magical education in a magic he wasn’t even sure he was capable of harnessing. He came to realize their magic worked very differently from his, more equivalent exchange, less intent and channeling pre existing power. Of which this land had power weaving through it in amounts Harry had never felt before in his life. After claiming the hallows Harry’s magic had changed, become something more. Something he still didn’t quite understand. Maybe his magic was more similar to this land’s than it had been his own by the end. Even so he’d made a point to keep his more blatantly not of this world magic to himself. He found this world just was just as hostile to things they didn’t understand as his last.

He had decided to apprentice himself to this world’s brand of healer. He was told he was a natural by Brenet of Lod, the town’s medic, his mentor. If Snape had been half as encouraging and attentive with potions as Brenet was with herbs, salves, and poultices he would have gotten infinitely better marks. 

Harry was sweeping up the shop front ideally at the end of the day. There was word a pair of witchers had rolled into town to finally take care of the endregas that had continued to thrive the last couple months. Brenet was tending a patient in the back that had been thrown from his horse. Though Harry thought the two were more gossiping and avoiding their wives as the injury was well on its way to healed. The broken arm was almost ready to come out of the splint. But who was he to begrudge the two old friends some man time.

Hearing a commotion outside the door Harry turned as the ruckus seemed to draw closer. He propped the broom against the counter and palmed the handle of his wand. Ready to draw it from the holster if it was bandits or the Scoia’tael deciding to get brave and sack the town. What he had not been expecting was for the door to be kicked in and a tall, armored man to rush in carrying what looked like an equally tall and bulkier second armored man who appeared to be unconscious. The unconscious man was promptly deposited on the mostly empty till counter.

“Please, light essence, tell me you have it in stock here. I don’t care what it costs!” Startled, Harry looked from the man on the counter then back to the other. He was shocked to be looking into bright yellow, slit-pupiled eyes. The man is dirty, bloodied, and harried. There were two swords strapped to his back and his fingers were twitching as if wanting to do something but wasn’t able to do so. The one on the table was similarly armored and equipped. His armor and swords were of different styles.  
It took a second for Harry to shake out of his shock. He thought a second before he replied. “Uh no, I’m sorry, we don’t have that here that I know of. If you tell me what it’s used for we might have something similar. Or if it goes by a different name maybe?I can grab the healer if you give me a second.” Harry had just turned to follow through with his statement when Brenet stalked into the shop proper. He heard the other man cursing violently behind him. Brenet’s eyes were harder than Harry had ever seen them He was still taken by surprise at the other’s utterance of, “We’re closed.”

The man cut off his cursing and turned back to Harry. “It’s used for a strong poison cure. Any noonwraith remains then? Or maybe one in the area? Brenet scowled and crossed his arms, “I said we’re closed to filthy mutants like you.” Harry gaped at his mentor. The man had always been so kind and willing to help anyone. Sometimes he had even forgone payment in lue of a favor sometime down the road.

It looked like the man was about to draw one of his swords. Harry quickly came to a decision. “I don’t think we have any of that either… and I haven’t heard anyone complain about a what, noonwraith? But… I might be able to help anyway. Please come with me” Brenet grabbed Harry’s shoulder in a harsh grip. “You’ve too soft a heart boy. These mutant freaks need no sympathy. They’re barely better than the monsters they slay.” The word freak hit Harry in a way he hadn’t felt in what had to be centuries, used like a slur, spat at somebody like the word itself could do damage. 

Harry shook off the hand and motions for the man to pick up his companion. “The only monster I see here is a healer unwilling to help a patient in need.” Brenet’s gaze was cold as he sneered and turned back to exit into the patient area. Harry led the other out and along the road the road a short ways to the small hut he had gotten at the edge of town.  
The only bed in the hut was his own but Harry directed his patient to be put down there. The other stepped back, gnashing his teeth in silent fury. Harry kept him on the edge of his vision as he inspected the prone man. A couple minor nicks here and there, but what was troubling was the large gash along his midsection. It was seeping pus and had green veins spider webbing the skin around it.

“Endrega venom?” Harry turned his question to the conscious one. “Yeah, fucking things were as big as griffens and the nest basically spanned the forest. Thought we got 'em all but last one tore a chunk out of em before I could get it.” His voice had an odd hiss to it, like an angry cat. Harry nodded, “Now, if you could help me get him out of his armor so I can get to the wounds. My name’s Harry by the way. I’ll do what I can but I’m only an apprentice. Well, was…” The other had already started on the straps and buckles of the armor.

There was barely a grunt at the manhandling. “Aiden, this’s Lambert.” Harry had moved to the hearth and started some water to boil. He jumped as Aiden cast Igni, the water boiled in seconds. Harry shook his head as he began to clean the wound. He tries what salves and potions he has on hand but Lambert’s condition continued to deteriorate. The green veins continued to spread and his breathing became labored.

Realizing what he would likely have to do Harry sighed and drew his wand. Aiden’s eyes flickered to the piece of wood. “Wait, you’re a sorcerer?” Harry grimanced, “of a sort. It’s the only thing I can think of that might work.” Aiden looked between the wand, Harry, and Lambert before nodding.

Harry took a deep breath and started to go through his arsenal of healing spells. The wound seemed to burst, sticky green liquid oozed from it. Lambert hissed and arched off the bed as venom and puss seeped from the wound. Once only blood leaked from the wound Harry directed Aiden to sop up what he could with what spare linen he could find. Harry cleaned and stitched the wound before cleaning the rest of him as well as he could. The green veins were gone and Lambert’s breathing had settled.

Harry sat heavily in a chair at the tiny table. He wiped the sweat from his brow on his sleeve cuff. Aiden perched on the other chair. His gaze was tentative with a sharp edge, waiting for Harry to name his price for his help. “You know when the townspeople described witchers it was with fangs, horns, and claws? More monster than man. Really you lot are much less scary than all that. Quite frankly your eyes are rather fetching.” Harry cut himself off, realizing where his tired babble had left him.

“Er, please ignore that last part if it offended you.” He risked a glance toward Aiden. The witcher had a dumbfounded look on his face. “Right well, I’m going to put a kettle on and sort out some stew. He’ll likely be asleep awhile yet but might as well have something easy to heat. There’s not much space but you’re welcome to put out a bedroll wherever.” He cursed himself in his head and started to go about exactly as he’d said

“Fetching…” Aiden mumbled, barely audible. Harry’s cheeks turned bright red as he busied himself with his stew pot.


End file.
